Leave It To Beavis
by Ghoullly
Summary: When Beavis gets valuable information out of Butthead after interrogating him a while, he decides to help Butthead ask out the girl he believes he has a crush on (but at the same time isn't sure; what even was a crush anyway?) solely with tips he learnt from late night romance movies. But the real question is- will it all work? Maybe; maybe not. Butthead/Daria whoops haha
1. Chapter 1

"Heh heh, hey Butthead, why's your face all red?"

The brunet quickly threw his hand to his face and turned to face the lockers, but his companion's loud, raspy voice had already drawn the attention of everybody who occupied the hallway. Beavis took a step towards Butthead, leaning in to look at his face.

"Really, Butthead, you look like a tomato. Heh heh m heh, oh, heh, if you're a tomato, does that mean if you got a zit on your face and you popped it or something, the stuff that would come out of it would be ketchup?" At this point, quite a few of the Highland High students had grown uninterested in what was happening, figuring it had to do with another bizarre situation their numbskull peers had gotten themselves into. This time, though, the circumstance was fairly normal- so normal that it was almost odd. Beavis laughed again, looking around aimlessly like he had a tendency to do. "Heh heh, that would be cool." He made eye contact with Gina, who immediately looked away with a grimace when she had realized what she had done. "Hey, how's it going?"

He turned to face his tall(er) brunet friend, but he panicked momentarily when he saw he wasn't there. "H-Hey!" Beavis whipped around, searching desperately for Butthead, and found him walking away from him, arms crossed. Bouncily weaving through the crowd, the blond hurried to catch up with him, grabbing ahold of his arm to be able to keep up with his fast pace.

"What the hell, Butthead?"

"Dammit, Beavis, get your hands off of me before I slap you so hard you go into last week."

His face was nowhere near as red as it had been back where they were seconds before, but it was flushed nonetheless. His cheeks and bottom lip were puffed in a pout. Beavis stared at him strangely; Butthead was acting really weird out of absolutely nowhere. Usually, Butthead would tell him anything if he asked, but he was being really stubborn and different and B didn't like it at all.

He followed his friend, who anxiously picked at his braces, all the way into Van Driessen's and sat down, choosing to ignore whatever the hell was going on with him. That was gonna have to be saved for when they were alone.

...

The sun was setting and the air was getting colder, but the light was still warm on their peachy skin as they walked back from the desert. Yet another game of baseball won by Butthead, who insisted that every pitch that wasn't a hit was obviously a ball. Beavis had learnt by then that it was best just to sit there and silently boil at his teasing that Butthead won, even though the blond knew that he was actually the one who lost by a mile. That fucker knew shit about baseball, but hey, if he wanted to feel good about himself for one fraction of the day Beavis wouldn't be the one to get in the way of that.

Nobody was outside, which meant it was the perfect chance to confront the brunet about his behavior early that day.

"What time do you think it is? If it's like, seven, then we might be able to make Baywatch, huh huh huh!" Butthead turned around to look at Beavis, who was much shorter than he was and had to look up at him to make eye contact. The blond's tongue was in his cheek and he looked as if something was bothering him as he peered up. "I dunno 'bout you, B, but I'm in the mood to see Pamela Anderson's-"

"-So like, heh heh, what was that about earlier?" Beavis slowed his walking and brought his hands to his chest, eyeing Butthead nervously when he stopped and turned his head to the side. When the brunet stayed quiet, Beavis kept going. "You were acting really weird."

"What's it to ya, buttwipe?" Butthead rolled his eyes, veered back around, and continued to walk, his hair somewhat messy from sweating during baseball and the wind tangling into it. Beavis made an off noise and hurried to catch up with him.

"Come on, Butthead, you're like..." He caught his tongue. Butthead wasn't really his friend. "...um. Heh heh m heh."

Butthead walked across their yard up to the front door, shoving his hand under the rough doormat, its top covered with mud and blood and oil and pretty much any other fluid a person could think of. "It doesn't matter, or something. Not to you, anyway." He opened the door and lazily tossed the key off to the side in the moment, but his eyes bulged when he realized where he threw it. He stamped his foot and threw his hand to his head, glaring at the thornbush he forgot was there. "Oh, goddammit!"

Beavis squeezed past his partner and stood on the inside of the door, peeking out, his usual smile plastered on his face playfully. "I would tell you if it was me and stuff."

Butthead decided to leave the key for another day and closed the door, half-assedly throwing his shoes into the closet. "No you wouldn't."

"Yes I would."

"No you wouldn't."

"Yuh-huh."

"Shut up, Beavis!"

Butthead walked into the kitchen, growing flustered again. Beavis's heart fluttered with thrill, since he noticed that he was cracking the brunet's outer shell and might actually manage to get information out of him. He followed after him, doing that excited Scooby-Doo type laugh he did sometimes.

"Butthead, please?" He draped himself against the oven, bending his back so he could tilt his head backwards and see Butthead in an upside-down view. The latter knelt down to get in the nearly-bare fridge and grabbed a soda, glaring in the blond's direction.

"You don't care."

"What-? I do so care, you asswagon! Who said I didn't care, or something, heh heh..."

Calmly, Butthead stood back up and walked over to Beavis, who remained draped over the stove. The blond's big blue eyes followed him trustingly.

"Ummm, heh heh. Butthead, what're you doin'?"

Shaking the can he had in his hand, the brunet held it out in front of his companion's face and popped the tab, spewing soda all over his face.

Beavis let out a yell, standing up straight, throwing his hands to his eyes. "Owww! Heh heh, Butthead, that really hurts! Ow!" His mischievous smile had shaped itself into a frown as he lifted the bottom of his shirt up to wipe the pop off of his freckled face.

"Huh huh huh huh, then learn to shut up, dillweed!" Butthead sneered as he left Beavis to tend to himself and sat on the couch, reaching for the remote to change the channel. Deciding it was too dangerous to his eyesight to try and go and sit next to him, B sprawled his short legs in the doorway, resting his head against the frame.

"Come on. Why won't you tell me, heh heh?"

"'Cause it's none of your business, that's why."

"What if I guess? Would you tell me then?" Beavis sounded tired, his eyes bloodshot from the Coke that Butthead had so politely shot in his face. His expression looked exhausted. He honestly _did_ want to know what his friend got so red-faced about earlier. Usually, if that ever happened, he was either choking on something or laughing really, really hard, and B was positive it was neither.

"If I say yes, will you get out of my ass?" Butthead crossed his arms and ran his tongue across his braces aggravatedly. Beavis lit up and went to say something, but he was cut off when Butthead added, "You'll never guess it, so I'm just gonna watch Pamela Anderson run around in a wet t-shirt without you, huh huh huh!"

That was a challenge Beavis was gonna win.

"Did it, um... have to do with chicks?"

Butthead made a weird face. "No."

Beavis stared at his friend for a couple seconds before scrunching his eyebrows and biting his lip in thought, reading his face. He finally let out a grunt and a smile spread across his face again.

"Yes it does."

"Dammit, Beavis, no it doesn't!"

"Well, heh heh, ummm... let's see then," Beavis brought his finger and held it to his chin, looking at the ceiling, "We were just walking down the hallway on our way to Van Driessen's. Heh heh m heh, and I saw a spider, heh heh heh heh heh, so I stepped on that son of a bitch, and when I looked up you were acting like a wussy and shoved your own damn face into a locker."

Butthead shrunk his shoulders and crossed his arms in a pout again. "I did not." His voice was small.

Beavis nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, you did," he began to remember again, and stood up, "It was right after... wait, heh heh, I think you said hi to somebody. Or they said hi to you. Who did you see? Does it have to do with them?"

Butthead wordlessly changed the channel to MTV. He completely ignored the blond, who finally had the bravery to finally go and sit next to him. He shook excitedly, growing anxious at the fact that he almost found out what the deal was.

"It does! It does! It-"

In response, Butthead smacked him across the face several times, leaving B a bit dizzy for a couple seconds. The skinner of the two boys leant against the arm of the couch, bringing a hand to his cheek.

"It... it does." He swallowed, thinking again, choosing to ignore what had just happened. "Well. Heh heh, not very many people talk to you, Butthead, I- I'm just saying."

Butthead threw a hand up, shaking his head with wide eyes. "Thanks for pointing it out, Beavis."

"So that means somebody talked to you and made you all red and stuff. The only people that talk to you are Martin, Earl, Cassandra, and Daria."

Butthead tensed up very quickly, sweat beginning to bead at his hairline. He ran his tongue over his braces hurriedly, looking out the window as a cover. As fast as his muscles tightened they loosened again and he was fine.

Except Beavis was extra focused tonight and he absolutely caught it all.

"Was it Daria?"

"No!"

"Yes it was Butthead! Yes it was!" Growing angry, Beavis balled his fists and began to shake, letting out a growling noise. "Dammit Butthead, you need to quit trying to lie to me! I've got you all figured out, and you _still_ sit there and act like I can't see through you, _but I do, and, and-!_ "

Butthead let out a groan of defeat and roughly set his cheek on his fist, his elbow resting on his thigh. "Fine! It had to do with Daria! Whatever, it doesn't matter!"

Beavis let out what could only be described as a squeal and kicked his legs childishly. "Really?" he squeaked, bringing his fists up to his mouth, "Heh heh heh, Butthead, do you like, _like-like_ her?"

Butthead crossed his arms again, as well as crossed his right leg over his left. He gazed at the blond out of the corner of his eye. Quietly, he shrugged, "I dunno."

Beavis leant forward curiously. Butthead was surprised he wasn't being made fun of at the moment, because he knew damn well if the roles were reversed, Beavis would've been laughed at hardcore.

"What'd'ya mean, "you dunno"? Heh heh, you either like her or you don't, buttwipe, it's not that hard."

"Well- I mean-" Butthead started, uncrossing everything and using his hands to talk (which he did on occasion), "I dunno if it's "that way" 'cause you know how usually, if I see a girl, I'll want to..." He paused, leaving the two to their usual "huh huh huh" and "heh heh heh"-ing that typically ensued. "Huh huh, uhhh... uh." He tried to regather what he had been talking about, having lost his train of thought in the middle of his laughing. "Uh, oh yeah. But like, I don't really want that from her and stuff. I just." He shrugged again, looking over at Beavis, who was watching quietly, listening interestedly. "I dunno. I don't even know if it's what it is. Maybe I'm just kinda like, "Hey, huh huh, this chick is pretty cool. We could probably be good friends", or something." He slumped frustratedly.

Beavis rubbed the bridge of his speckled nose, thinking. "Hm. Heh heh m heh, do you think of me that way?"

Butthead's neck practically snapped itself when he looked up at his friend. "Uhhh, no."

Beavis stared with an awkward smile and an unreadable expression (hint: it was masked hurt) for a couple seconds. "Okay." was all he said for a minute, before adding, "Then it must mean that you like-like her."

"Uhhhhh," Butthead moaned disappointedly, not really wanting to immerse himself into usual teenage-lovey-dovey-wussy crap that they sometimes stumbled across while channel surfing. Sure, the weird hole he had in his chest suggested otherwise, but he wouldn't let himself - a (wannabe) hardass - completely melt for some girl that probably was far from even "like-like"-ing him in the slightest. No way. Nuh-uh.

...maybe.

Beavis idly ran his fingers through his golden pompadour. He tilted his head again. "Heh heh, so like, why don'cha ask her out or something?"

Butthead's eyes popped and he made a face at the blond, who quickly frowned in confusion as to what was so strange about his suggestion. "What- no! I don't know how! If I was gonna do that, I would want to do it in a special way; all I know how to do is point out a chick's butt. I have no idea how to ask out a girl." Deciding that Baywatch was always on some other time, he turned the TV off and blew out a sigh in the newly-found quiet. "Besides... what if she says no?"

"Couldn't hurt to ask, right?"

"Uhhh, yeah, it could."

Beavis was beginning to squirm with the need to be focused on something. Sure, he was having a conversation, but the TV was off and he had never had such a deep conversation with someone before maybe other than Butthead's mom and he wasn't used to being so quiet. He pacified this need to get up and run in circles by bowing his back across his arm of the couch again, his shirt riding up so his bellybutton was showing. "What if you called your mama and asked her what to do?"

"No, Beavis; I'm sure as hell not gonna do that."

"Well, that makes me upset that you ain't gonna at least _try_ to ask her on a date. Heh heh, like, I think I have a good idea of what you can do, but we might have to fix you up a little bit."

Butthead squinted and looked at B strangely. "You? Know how to ask a girl out?"

"Heh heh m heh, yeah! Like, you usually fall asleep around 2 in the morning, and chick flicks sometimes come on Lifetime." He made his voice small, admitting, "I watch 'em sometimes when there's nothing else on. But yeah, heh heh, thanks to seein' a couple 'a those, I kinda know what chicks like and stuff." He crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at the brunet, giving him a toothy half-grin. "I would help you, but I guess you're too much of a wussy to even ask a chick out. It's _Daria,_ for cripes sake."

"Yeah- you say that like the fact that it's Daria isn't even the real problem. I'm gonna go to her and she's gonna insult me in like five different levels of sarcasm and leave me there feeling like an ass." He pouted for like the fiftieth time that day, but his face softened as he glanced back up from burning a hole through his thighs with his eyes. "Would you really help me, Beavis?"

"Yeah. 'Cause I'm a good friend." He laughed, starting to talk to himself. "Heh heh heh, I'm a _good_ friend. Heh heh, no friend's better than me."

Butthead stuck his tongue in his cheek and shrugged and nodded in agreement. Fair enough. "Well. I guess, I guess I can say..." The words caught on his tongue and he choked. Beavis leant in, beginning to grunt again.

"Come on, Butthead, heh heh, I know you can do it."

"...uhhhhh, thank you, I guess."

A wide smile quickly spread across the blond's face and he jumped up with such awareness that it made Butthead flinch. "Now, out of spirit of what happens in the movies and stuff, heh heh, you're gonna ask her out today." Butthead froze, which led B to add, "Y'know, before you chicken out of it."

"Today...?" Butthead repeated in fear. Ah, but what was he doing!- he was letting stuff get to him and he wasn't appearing all cool like he usually did! (Yeah, right.) He let out another breath to calm himself down and told himself it honestly wasn't even that big of a deal because he was _hardcore_ and only wanted to bone chicks, not take them out on dates and buy them shit and stuff. This was just a test to prove how _super manly_ he was and how _no woman could possibly ever change him,_ not even if she was actually really smart and had the patience of a Saint and had a pretty good sense of humor. A weird tremor suddenly echoed throughout his body that he didn't like at all. What in the ever-loving fuck was that? Whatever the hell was happening to him was really uncomfortable and he hoped that whatever Beavis planned on doing was gonna stop that as soon as he possibly could've.

"Butthead?" Beavis waved his hand in front of the other's face, bringing him back to reality.

"Huh...? What?" Butthead blinked, rubbing his one eye. Had B been talking that whole time?

"Dammit, Butthead, listen to me when I talk, or something. Yeah. Heh heh m heh, um, heh. I said, are you ready? 'Cause if we wanna get there before she gets in bed, we gotta start like, now."

Butthead nodded. "Oh. Oh yeah." He stood up, cracking one of his shoulders. "So, uhhh... huh huh, like, what is it that you're gonna do?"

Beavis was already in the doorframe to the kitchen, and he turned around with the biggest grin on his face and grunted, "Heh heh, come with me and you'll see."


	2. Chapter 2

"Wussy."

"Shut up!"

"Wussy!"

Butthead held up his hand threateningly at Beavis, who hunkered down and held his hands up in defense, immediately shutting up. Seeing that he was going to be quiet now, the brunet lowered his arm, crossing them and peering off aggravatedly in the other direction as they both waited for the bus. His cheeks were swollen in embarrassment.

Last night, he and Beavis (well, mostly Beavis; he just stood in the doorway and watched) had turned his room upside down in search of something nice he could wear. They were too poor to have possessed a tux, which was what the blond had suggested, and the classiest thing he had was a pair of worn out jeans and a plain black shirt. It took about an hour to convince Butthead to change into said clothes, and when he did, he refused to leave his room and threatened to hit B with the bat if he didn't go away, locking him out and chickening out of it.

He hadn't actually changed back into his favorite outfit; as they stood in the humid morning air, he tugged at the side seams of his pants, not liking how tight they were on his thighs. His shorts were a lot looser.

After a minute of uncomfortable silence, Beavis pulled his comb out of his pocket and began to mess with his hair, glancing up at his (much) taller friend.

"So, uh, heh heh m heh, um."

"What?" Butthead looked over with an eyebrow raised and his mouth shaped into a frown. Nonchalantly, the blond took a step to the side.

"Um, you like, aren't in your AC/DC shirt today, Butthead." He pocketed the comb, shoving his hand into the little space there was left. A smile was spread on his face like always.

Butthead made a face and shrugged, blowing a bubble with the gum he had been chewing. He took a step forward and glanced down the road, looking to see if the bus was coming yet.

Being hit with realization, Beavis's smile grew wider and he pinched his eyebrows.

"Heh heh heh, why?"

Butthead was silent for a second, stepping farther out into the road and over-exaggerating leaning to the side to see. "Uhhhh, I woke up kinda late today and didn't have the time to change, or something."

"Heh heh m heh! Butthead, no offense, but you suck at lying."

Defensively, the brunet whirled around, puffing his cheeks angrily at Beavis, spitting, "Yeah? Well maybe you suck at-" he hesitated, stumbling over his words, "-uh, everything! You suck at everything and you're a dirty butthole, you buttknocker!"

" _Don't call me buttknocker, asswipe!_ " Beavis screeched loudly, shaking his fists in front of him. He turned red with annoyance and the two stared each other down, Butthead's spine still twisted as he stood in the middle of the road. Before any other words could be exchanged, the bus driver laid on the horn, scaring the ever-loving piss out of Butthead, who flinched heavily at the sound and sheepishly moved onto the sidewalk so she could pull up further. Beavis thought it was hilarious and was cackling, but the brunet didn't do anything about it because there were people on that bus that witnessed everything that happened the previous afternoon with the lockers and he needed to seem cool today.

They both got on and moved to their usual seat in the back of the bus, Beavis still giggling uncontrollably at his still crimson-faced friend, the bus driver mumbling something under her breath about "jackass kids". Some kid had his backpack thrown into the side of their seat closest to the window, and when Butthead picked it up and turned around to toss it at him, the kid glared at him boldly. In a normal situation, the brunet would've made the person take it anyway, but he figured that the letterman he was wearing and his bulky arm muscles meant he was a jock and wouldn't be afraid to fight. Defeatedly, Butthead breathed hard out of his nose and put it back where it was, squeezing in between the bag and Beavis, who had no problem fitting because of his skinny frame. He also didn't really mind how close he had to sit to his brunet friend, who felt the complete opposite.

"Ummm... heh heh, um. Hey, Butthead?"

"What, Beavis?"

"You said you didn't really have time to get ready this mornin', and you like, didn't want to wear what you have on, but you had to anyway?"

"Yeah."

"Heh heh m heh, is that why you're wearin' cologne, too?"

...

Butthead nervously toyed with his hair as they walked down the hallway, mistakenly believing that strands that he had smoothed back like he usually did were losing the stickiness of the gel and sticking up. Beavis noticed his friend's anxiety and figured that he was nervous over Daria. Gently, he nudged Butthead's arm to get his attention. The taller one looked down at Beavis wordlessly, worry clearly spread across his face.

"Hey, listen, heh heh," the blond whispered (as quietly as he could, anyway; Beavis was naturally a bit loud and had to try and speak over the white noise of the hallway chatter), "You look kinda scared right now, jus' sayin'."

Butthead's shoulders slumped a bit and he began to fidget with his hair again. "Dammit, Beavis, you think I didn't know that?" He sounded more disappointed than angry. He ran a tongue over his braces insecurely. "Uh huh huh, you know, Beavis, it's not like I'm used to this or anything. It's all weird crap that's just been happening recently and stuff, and like, I'm at school, and I'm dressed up, and she's gonna see me like this and I'm just trying too hard and this sucks ass." He said everything in one breath and had to gulp in air when he was done, detouring his friend from going in the direction of Van Driessen's so they could talk a little more before he had to face anybody else. They had time to kill anyway; the morning bell didn't ring for another eight minutes.

"Well, heh heh m heh. Hm." was all Beavis said, continuing his usual grunting and mindless staring at nothing particular in the room. Butthead let out a small groan of misunderstanding as to why he couldn't hold a decent conversation half the time and went back to his fidgeting.

"I, um, heh heh, well, Butthead, you're not laughin' at everything, which is one thing." Beavis finally said, awkwardly squishing up to Butthead's side as somebody walked next to him and left no room, not smart enough to just move behind the brunet for a second.

"Uhhhh, what?"

"That's why you seem off. Like, usually, you're checkin' out Kimberly's butt and laughin' because somebody said somethin' like "anile". Heh heh heh heh m heh! 'Anile!'" Beavis began to giggle at himself, Butthead joining in. They both laughed at Beavis's comment for a minute before remembering what they were talking about.

"Uh huh huh huh... so like, I should try really, really hard to find things funny and stuff?" Butthead wasn't really messing with his hair anymore, and actually was managing to turn heads but only for a moment, and the only reason being because people were noticing he wasn't wearing that grimy gray shirt he always wore. He got their attention for a max of two seconds before they went back to what they were doing.

"Heh heh, yeah! If you're busy laughin' at a chick's boobs, you won't really care about anythin' else and you won't be all weird anymore! Yeah, see, Butthead, you're gettin' the hang of this already, heh heh m heh..." Butthead tried to hide the smile that was spreading across his face, but Beavis grabbed his arm and leant in, whispering, "But if you wanna get Daria interested in you and stuff, you're gonna have to act a _little_ weird, Butthead, it's not that easy."

Butthead looked at Beavis strangely. "Beavis, just what in the hell do you mean?"

The latter went to speak but was cut off by the sound of the warning bell.

"Heh heh m heh, um... yeah. Heh heh..."

"Beavis!"

"What? Oh. Heh heh, um, like, chicks like it when you tell them they're pretty and that they smell nice and stuff. At least according to all those movies and crap, heh heh m heh..." Shrugging, Beavis brought a finger up to his nose and began to dig at it. All it took was for Butthead to glance around momentarily and see all of the disgusted girls who leant away from the blond that Beavis was pretty much an example of what _not_ to do, even though Butthead never did that anyway. A lump formed in his throat and his hand automatically went to mess with his hair again.

"Uhhhhh, huh huh huh, I don't think I can do that." He looked around anxiously, praying she wasn't nearby, but knowing her she was probably one of the first kids through the doors so she could get to Van Driessen's and shove her nose into _Gatsby._ They all had to read it for English, except the final project for that quarter was due a long time ago and she was rereading it (for the fifth time, she claimed). Of course, Beavis and Butthead hadn't read it and relied on her to tell them everything that happened before Mrs. Dickey's class. Of course, Daria told them just to keep them off her back about anything else. And of course, they all three got away with it.

Beavis's blue eyes flicked over and he made a face. "What? Heh heh m heh, like, why not? All you gotta do is be like," he cleared his throat and tilted his chin into his neck, lowering his voice, 'Uh huh huh', heh heh, 'huh huh, hey baby,' heh heh, 'you like,' heh, 'look pretty hot today, or something,' heh heh heh m heh."

Butthead crinkled his nose. "Huh huh, not to Daria! She's like, different and stuff. Uh huh huh, and besides, asswipe, I don't sound like that!"

"Oh. Oh yeah. Heh heh m heh, I guess you're right. You sound like this!" Beavis proceeded to make this hissing noise by putting his tongue between his teeth and shook his fists excitedly, spitting everywhere. He shut up after he got a smack to the face.

It was nearly time that they got to class now anyway; even though it was Van Driessen's and they could walk in two minutes before first period ended and he would just give them a small lecture about responsibility without penalty.

Shakily letting out a sigh of anxiety, Butthead rubbed his eye and tugged on Beavis's elbow, the blond letting out a yelp.

"Uhhhh, like, come on, dude, we need to get to Van Buren's class now."

Beavis's face contorted and he let out a high giggle. "Van Buren? Who the hell is that? Heh heh m heh!"

Butthead didn't answer, his face burning hot as he dragged his cackling friend down the hall, feeling like he wanted to throw up. She was undoubtedly going to be in class by the time they got in, so what was he going to do? Was he going to wait until she started to notice him or was he gonna have to make a move right away? He wasn't used to this shit. He was used to seeing the guys with chicks on each arm and being jealous, but only because those were pairs of pants that guy was getting into. He had never genuinely wanted anything more out of a girl than sex (which he never got anyway) and for some reason, he wanted everything but from Daria. Goddammit, hormones. Why couldn't these sort of chemicals gone to his dick like they always did instead of his heart?

Leaving Beavis behind a couple feet before the door, Butthead recollected himself the best he could and prayed his pulse couldn't be seen on his neck. He walked in the room, and all eyes were on him again, but not for long, since Beavis walked his ass in and was acting stupid already. Flicking his eyes over to Daria, he was somewhat relaxed that she could care less and was reading her book, but also somewhat hurt that she hadn't gawked or anything. Easing into his seat, he made a point of clearing his throat, biting his lip raw. Beavis sat down next to him, peering at him with a smug grin on his face. If Butthead wasn't so dead-set on getting this girl's attention, he'd have smacked him.

"Heh heh m heh, hey Butthead."

Butthead looked over, his eyes boring through the blond's skull. He was talking awfully loud. " _Beavis._ "

"When are you gonna do it, Butthead? Ask her! Ask her! _Ask he-_ "

His lips were held shut by his friend, who had shot his arm over and grabbed them, so red he looked like he fell asleep under the sun. "Beavis, please, shut up," he pleaded, and the blond figured that since he asked nicely the least he could do was give him the time of day and focus on something else. If he needed rescuing though, he was ready to jump in any time.

Butthead, leaning back to his original position, cleared his throat even louder and sheepishly kicked the leg of Daria's chair at the same time, glancing away when she set her book down to turn around.

He felt her eyes look him up to down and nearly shivered. Was she checking him out? Was that what she was doing? Was the plan working?-

"So, Butthead, wanted to show off that you finally bought a washing machine?"

Butthead just kinda stared at her for a minute, mouth slightly hung open, and he heard Beavis next to him let out an unsure "um" as to how to respond. Not wanting to leave her hanging, though, his heart raced as to what he should say. The tips of his ears burning off, he pointed at her awkwardly with a finger gun and blurted, "Uh, yes." His face contorted the moment he said it. What the hell? Why would he say that?

Daria, being Daria, just rolled her eyes and turned back around, focusing on her book again. Butthead threw his elbows on his desk and held his forehead in his hands, hiding his face. Beavis leant over slowly, his mouth inches away from Butthead's ear.

"Heh heh m heh, I don't think you were supposed to say that, Butthead."

...

"I'm tellin' you Butthead, heh heh, like, just ask her out."

"Dammit, Beavis, shut up! It's not that easy! Like, you would know if you had a crush on somebody, huh huh..." Standing outside of the lunchroom, Butthead's hands were still firmly clamped on his seams. His face wasn't red anymore, but he was still clumsy and out-of-place with his hair hanging in his face and jeans in 80 degree weather. Everybody else was inside, but the blond had pulled him aside to talk to him. The taller one of the two felt small and babyish. He needed to knock it the hell off, because he didn't really like the way he was feeling. His chest felt like it was full of... something - he had no idea why, but it did - and his heart sat in his throat, blood rushing to places other than his crotch for once. Maybe Beavis was right. The sooner he got it out of the way the sooner it would go away.

"Heh heh m heh, um, like, I'm sick and tired of you just standing here, looking all hot and stuff, and not even doing anything about it!" Beavis grunted a little before getting a lot more dynamic, shaking his fists. "Like, if you're not gonna go in there right now and go up to her and smooth-talk your way through it like you do half the time when you talk to chicks, heh heh, then I'm gonna ask her for you!"

Butthead's heart fell through the floor and he gripped Beavis's shoulders pleadingly, his cheeks bright red.

"Beavis, what the hell! Don't do that, you dillhole, that's like, the worst thing you could do to me!" He was starving and really wanted to eat, but it was clear that Beavis wasn't going to let him eat until he talked to Daria, because each time he tried to leave, a bony hand was placed on his arm and he was pulled back. Flaring his nostrils, he pouted his lip.

"Dammit, fine, I guess I ain't got no choice... I'll go talk to her. You bunghole." Butthead slicked his hair back with his hand, and Beavis grinned with satisfaction. Going to walk into the cafeteria with a shaky gait, the brunet turned back on his heel and pointed in the blond's face, spitting with anxiety, "I hate you and I only hang around you because nobody else is friends with me."

Beavis's smile grew a mile wide and he trailed after his friend, giggling, "Yeah, sure. Okay, Butthead, heh heh m heh."

Butthead stood in the center of the room, unsure of what he was going to do, soaking wet under his shirt. He grabbed the neck of it and moved it a little in an attempt to cool himself down, but the sweat that beaded on his eyebrows and hairline suggested that it didn't work. His skin was rosy again and he desperately wished Beavis would realize that he needed a little bit of space, since he was right up on him with plenty of room around the two. But what would Beavis be without being super clingy and dependant on somebody else?

Butthead blew out a sigh, trying to exhale his nerves. Alright. He was gonna go up to her, sit down, and just flat out tell her how he felt. If he hesitated, he wouldn't ever have the balls to admit his feelings. He hated that he had feelings in the first place; where the fuck did they even come from? He had been sitting there in class one afternoon with nothing else to do and had suddenly just realized how pretty her hair fell and how her glasses complimented the proportions of her face and her lips and-

"Heh heh m heh, Butthead, I'm gonna give you two minutes. And like, heh m heh, when those minutes are up, I'm gonna go up to her and tell her." Beavis pulled his comb out of his pocket and fixed his hair, his tongue in his cheek. Of course he was giggling; that was pretty much how he breathed. The smile on his face peered up at Butthead in a way that made it clear Beavis's immaturity couldn't be challenged and that if the brunet was going to hesitate, his counterpart was not.

"You can't even count to two minutes, you buttknocker," Butthead snapped quietly. He hardly realized Beavis had dug his heel into his toes in an act of annoyance at the nickname, but he was too focused on what he was gonna do. Just go up to her. Go up to her and compliment her something, then drop the bomb and wait. What if she didn't respond, though? What if she just got up and walked away like every other girl he talked to did? (In the girls' defense, though, usually he was seeking for sex. But he felt like this situation wouldn't be too different.) What if she didn't know what to say? What if she laughed in his face and made him feel like he was only inches tall and made him want to crawl under a rock and hide there for a few days? She better consider herself fucking lucky he was gonna act on what he was feeling. For any other girl, he'd have just swallowed the heartache uncomfortably like a huge pill and moved on, but Daria was just too pretty to pass up on. He cursed his hormones something fierce. Finally feeling like he was ready to do something rather than stand in front of the entire lunchroom like an idiot for several minutes like he already had, he cracked his knuckles and looked around for Daria, his pulse heavy.

Wait a minute. Something was off. The raspy breathing that was soundtrack to every hour of his day suddenly wasn't there anymore.

Almost immediately, Butthead was hit with realization like it was a cinderblock at the fact that he had wasted away the two minutes Beavis had given him and the blond was gone. Fear struck through him and his knees buckled momentarily, catching himself before he fell and he stood on his toes. Where did he go? He didn't see Daria or his blond friend, whose hair was big enough that you'd think you'd be able to see him, but his tiny height made him blend in anyway. Running along the edge of the room, he looked around frantically for him - even just Daria - hoping she hadn't been approached yet. When he was alone with Beavis again, he was gonna choke him within an inch of his life.

"Dammit, Beavis, where the hell did you go? You better not do it, bunglick, or I swear to God...!" He had no idea where he went and was screaming into the air.

Suddenly he caught glimpse of the blond hair through the crowd of jocks who had clustered around the trashcans, and of course, Daria was within both of their sights. Tearing across the floor, Butthead stumbled into his friend and ripped him backwards by his collar, trying to clamp a hand on his mouth. Beavis had seen him coming out of the corner of his eye ahead of time and laughed excitedly like he had thought it was a game. He called out the girl's name loud enough for her to look up from _Gatsby_ and give her attention to the two boys, who were practically wrestling each other. Butthead tried his hardest, but no matter what he did, he couldn't get his hand to stay over Beavis's mouth. Everybody in the room grew quiet as they watched the scene they were putting on, and Butthead grew anxious and his entire skin was crimson.

"Daria! Heh heh m heh, Butthead-" His hand was shoved up against the blond's mouth again, and he shoved his fingers in the fringe of his pompadour, pulling it backwards. Beavis let out a laugh and bit Butthead's hand, leading him to yelp out in pain and reel his hand back. Realizing with horror what he had done, it was too late for Butthead to do anything about it now. Everybody was paying attention to them, including Daria, who looked as if she honestly could care less about what was going on, but still watched anyway.

"Heh heh, Butthead thinks you're really pretty and wants to know if you like, wanna date him and stuff! Heh heh m heh!" Beavis felt victorious, booming his voice across the cafeteria, which had stood completely still as everybody turned to listen what he had to say. Butthead felt like he was going to collapse in embarrassment or fear or anticipation; he wasn't sure which. Feeling everybody's eyes on him, but not having anyplace in particular to run, he moved behind his short friend, who chuckled happily to himself, burying his face in his hands and ducking his head behind the golden pompadour. In any normal situation, everybody would continue on with what they were doing, but this time half the cafeteria stared at Butthead and the other half watched Daria. They all figured it was bound to happen sooner or later; Daria was the only girl those two talked to, so it was natural for one of them to develop a crush. After all, they were teenage boys; that was gonna happen. Cassandra talked to them as well, but it was clear they were a lot closer to Daria in some strange 'we-can-be-friends-but-only-if-I'm-allowed-to-insult-you-everyday' sort of way.

Daria looked up at the two boys standing tables in front of her, Beavis beaming and Butthead hidden, but his red skin was clearly visible to her. She pushed her glasses up her nose and made an odd face, which Beavis caught and frowned at, thinking that wasn't too good. His chuckling ceased, and Butthead peered out from behind his fingers, lifting his head a little. His heart stopped beating. What was she doing?

Much to everybody's surprise, she smiled strangely stiffly, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "Uh, yeah, I guess. Why not?"

The room began to hum in conversation with one another. What a weird couple those two would make; oh well, maybe that means the metalmouth one would stop harassing all the girls and the girl would find something to smile about for once. Just like that, the students of Highland High began to carry on with their business, although that business now included talk about what just happened.

Beavis balled his hands to his chest, beaming widely as he grunted in honest surprise, and whirled around to look at his brunet friend, whose hands had trailed down to his neck. He was still flushed, but a smile he was clearly trying to hide creeped on his face, and that weird ache that had made its home under his ribs had suddenly burst open, flooding his chest with this new feeling he hadn't known existed. Allowing himself to smile, his hands fell to his sides in amazement, and he squeaked out, "Really...?"

Daria shrugged. "Why not?" The two boys stood in wait for her to say anything else, but that was all she would say. Beavis blinked in confusion, but figured it was because she never showed any emotion ever and was just incapable. He hadn't thought he'd seen Butthead that happy ever, and the brunet shakily walked over to her. He didn't know what to say; what did you even say in those situations? He was just so happy and felt worth something for damn once and was going to take a while to register that holy shit, he had a _girlfriend_ now. Now what...?

Daria stood up, book to her chest, and smirked at the braces-wearing boy, who still looked thunderstruck and ears burned red. "That doesn't mean you're gonna be a softie, now, does it?"

Butthead crossed his arms over his stomach sheepishly, forcing himself to laugh. "No, I guess it doesn't, huh huh..." She seemed kind of off, but then again, so was he. It was awkward, but in a couple of days, it would be fine, he figured. The bell rang, cutting the two of them off from saying anything else, and they got caught up in the chaos. Daria pushed her chair in with her hip and gave him a small smile.

"I'll see you later, then." was all she said, and she turned around and blended in with the crowd, and just like that, she was gone.

Butthead stood there, the stray strands in his face again, but the warmth had sunken under his skin by now, and he let it all sink in. She didn't seem too thrilled about it- but she was Daria. She was Daria and never showed any emotion at all. She could be super excited about it but not be able to show it.

Beavis walked up to his side and stared him in the face, biting his lip. "Heh heh m heh, told you it wouldn't be that bad, you butthole," he teased. He was happy for his friend, he genuinely was; it was just that the way she was acting seemed a bit off. Something wasn't right, but the brunet couldn't tell that, he didn't think. He just stood there, smiling a mile wide, warm with affection he didn't know he had and other things.

"Heh heh m heh, um, Butthead, we should probably get to class now." Beavis nudged him, not wanting to be late to Buzzcut's, especially after what happened last time.

Butthead glanced down at Beavis, coming back into reality, and moved his hair out of his eyes. "Uhhh, yeah, okay." He shrugged, leading the way. He couldn't get himself to stop smiling, and the smile didn't leave his face until the end of the day.

Beavis, however, sat and fidgeted in his seat, grunting quietly and gnawing on his pencil. Something was off and the pit of his stomach was sour. He was really hoping that this wasn't going to spiral into something bad. His heart would undeniably break if he had to watch it happen to Butthead. Maybe it wouldn't, though. He'd just have to see.


End file.
